A/N: This is my first finished story. It might be awful, I don't know, but I thought I might as well try. I love Bella and Sev as a couple so... Ta-da!

I would like to point out that I don't own these characters - J.K Rowling has that privelage. *Sniff*

I twirl my wand in my hand and smile coldly. He looks away and closes his eyes.

A flick of my wrist. I watch as he falls to his knees and wait for him to acknowledge the pain. He doesn't. No sound comes from his lips. I frown in annoyance. Why is he so strong?

Another flick of my wrist and the pain ends. Or at least most of it.

His breath comes in short gasps and he lifts his head to look at me. I feel a shiver run down my spine at his gaze.

"Why?"

I cringe. I don't have the answer.

I feel the last person leave the clearing. No one lingers long after He goes. With no-one to make them stay, they disappear into the night.

We are alone.

I drop my wand carelessly and kneel in front of him. I reach out to touch his arm. He leans away from me, mistrust on his pale face; had I enough of a heart to break, it would have.

"Why?" he repeats, voice barely a whisper.

I bow my head, letting my hair hide my face. I don't know. I don't know! Why can't he understand? If only this weren't my life. If only I hadn't -

I feel a light touch on my arm and look down. His hand, his slender fingers, are resting on my bare skin.

How long I have waited.

I shiver.

He wordlessly pulls me closer, wrapping his cloak around me. Now it is my turn to ask why.

"It is cold," he replies simply, without emotion.

I now realise that, yes, it is. The cold bites at my exposed flesh and I flinch into his side. I expect him to pull away, but he doesn't. This surprises me. I feel a hysterical bubble of laughter threaten to break through my lips and quickly smother it.

No matter what anyone else says, I am sane. I am.

I feel his hot breath on my face and glance up. He is staring at me.

A small trickle of blood is visible at his temple. That wasn't me. I know it wasn't.

Moving slowly, so he knows what I'm doing, I transfer the blood to my hand. The bright red is almost painful to look at. It is just as bright as mine, I am sure. That confuses me. How can it be the same?

A shadow passes over his face, almost as if he knows what I am thinking. I snap out of my thoughts and look up at him. His hair shines in the light of the moon - it doesn't look greasy at all. In fact, it looks unbelievably silky. I yearn to reach out and touch it, but I fear his reaction.

He is a mind reader.

He just reached out, took hold of my hand and brought it to his cheek. I can feel his hair on the back of my hand. It is how I imagined; unbelievably soft and silky.

I am close enough now to smell his sweat, sweet and musky. It nearly drives me insane. I want to feel him, feel his arms around me, holding me close.

But that can not happen. It must not happen. I can't break the rules. I won't.

I stand unsteadily, picking up my wand and sliding it into my pocket.

The look on his face is almost enough to make my resolve shatter. Almost.

I offer him a small smile and turn to leave. I think he understands.

But before I can disapparate, he grabs hold of my wrist. My first reaction is to pull away, but I don't. That's a first.

I look up at him and my heart jumps into my mouth. My stomach flutters nervously and suddenly my knees feel weak.

His look cannot mean what I think it does. It can't. Until now, the only emotion he felt towards me was hate. Maybe fear. But affection?

Never.

And, as strange as it may seem...

I don't want him to hurt me. All the walls I have built over the years have come crashing down around me within in minutes and I'm struggling to rebuild them.

Do I even need to? I'm not sure.

Can he hear my heart hammering against my ribcage? I certainly can.

He pulls me to him again and as I feel his strong arms around me, every ounce of common sense flies from my brain.

To hell with the rules.